


i’ve been waiting for you

by reginaswanmills



Series: the walking dead [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Dynamics, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginaswanmills/pseuds/reginaswanmills
Summary: She’d been lost too many times before. Lost when she was married to Ed. Lost when Sophia went missing. Lost when Rick banished her from the group. Lost when she disconnected from Lizzie and Mika. Lost when she lost Henry.With Daryl, she wasn’t lost anymore. With him, she found a home and a family.
Relationships: Carol Peletier & Lydia, Daryl Dixon & Lydia, Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier
Series: the walking dead [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156358
Kudos: 12





	i’ve been waiting for you

**Author's Note:**

> the start of my twd one-shot series! i love lydia and her relationships with everyone, and i want to expand on that. 
> 
> based off the prompt: “I’m exactly where I want to be.” 
> 
> bit of a carol character study, with caryl heavy undertones and carylydia family.

She looks at her family, and she doesn’t feel lost anymore. 

Her eyes sweep over the two figures, huddled close enough together that Daryl can comfort her if she wakes from a nightmare, but far enough apart that Lydia doesn’t feel trapped. The couch set-up was really a treasure to be found. It was the perfect addition to their little home, which wasn’t really all that little when Carol thought about it. 

They had a kitchen, a bathroom, three bedrooms, a hall closet, and a spacious living room. Daryl had worked closely with Aaron to build them a fireplace, where a polaroid picture of the family of three rested to remind them that this is where they belonged.

The couch, though, was separated into three parts. All made of the same dark brown material, scrubbed free of any leftover stains. The first was their regular sitting couch — currently where Daryl laid cocooned in his own blankets with a few pillows. The second was one third of a couch, positioned against the corner wall with a bit of a recliner back to it, where she had previously been sitting before her midnight troubles disturbed her too much. And the third piece was almost identical to the first, but pushed against the other wall, touching the edge of the makeshift recliner. Lydia slept there, wrapped up in a single blanket with her head pushed against the cushion rather than a pillow. 

Carol had been sitting there for hours before she’d gotten up. She’d been keeping watch; not because it wasn’t safe anymore, but because their daughter had a terrible sleeping schedule and Carol helped her to fall asleep almost every single night. Tonight had been a night where the three had decided to camp out in the living room, reading books, talking quietly, with Carol running her hands through Lydia’s hair until she heard the telltale sounds of her sleeping breaths. 

Other nights, though, Carol would lie up in the girl’s bed, while Daryl waited patiently in the comfort of their own bed, until she fell asleep. Sometimes, all it took was Carol humming gently, holding her close. Other times, Lydia needed reassurances, or just a familiar comforting body near her to feel safe enough to fall asleep. With their often busy days, it was one part of the day Carol looked forward to, getting to spend that quality time with her daughter. 

Tonight, though, as much as Carol had been content to sit there for hours, she was now too restless to stay still. Her mind never shut off long enough for her to get too much sleep. She’d pass out eventually, but not until well past midnight. She’d learned over the years that sleep was rare in this new world. 

A lot of things were rare, and she had to find joy in whatever she could. She couldn’t wallow in her miserableness forever. 

Daryl and Lydia had been a huge part of that. 

He was her saving grace — as much as he likes to say she was his. He’d taught her the way of survival, showed her how to fight off the creatures that came for them, how to start a fire and how to string a bow. As long ago as it was, as painful as it was to look back on those days; she still remembered when they’d been nothing more than group members. 

Two completely different people thrusted together in a larger group. Everyone full of different backgrounds and past mistakes, just trying to survive and comprehend the world around them burning to ashes. There were few of them left from the original group — just him and her, if they’re going all the way back to the quarry and Atlanta. 

She didn’t think about the people they lost too often. Her chest ached too much to do that. Still, there were reminders everywhere. 

At times, it seemed that Judith should’ve been much older than she really was. It seemed like they’d devoted their entire lives to protecting that little girl; and yet, it seemed like an entire lifetime away from when they were simply around fifteen people just on the run, walking the dead end roads, scavenging whatever they could find. 

Before peace among communities. Before Negan took their lives. Before Carol sought acceptance and love and the family she’d never dreamed of having but loved immensely regardless. 

She tries to focus on the present, on what’s right in front of her and what lies ahead of them. 

Daryl and Lydia could be taken from her in an instant. She could be taken from them in an instant. 

After Henry, they showed her a new way. They showed her that her path of destruction wasn’t even comparable to the love she could have with them. Lydia was her new beginning; but Daryl had offered her acceptance. He always had — from Ed to Sophia, to Lizzie and Mika, to all of the people she’d hurt or killed, to all of her guilt and shame. He’d been there to assure her that she was not alone in that boat. He’d hurt people too: they all had, because that’s why they were still alive. 

Their first night here, when considering their options, Daryl had reminded her of that. 

He’d taken her hand — a gentle action that meant everything to her aching heart, but seemed too subtle and routine for him, as if he didn’t think twice — and he’d told her they had two options. Option number one was throwing Lydia to the wolves of society, leaving her to fend for herself in a community where nobody trusted her; while they escaped on the back of Daryl’s bike to his campsite with Dog. 

Option number two: unofficially adopt Lydia and stay where they were. 

Either way, they were both pretty much against abandoning Lydia. She was pretty sure Daryl only said that to further enforce their decision to stay. 

Since the fall of Alpha, she’d clung to them like a life line. Daryl had taken her under his wing before that, acting all fatherly; but it took Carol many late night talks and motherly routines to build a bond with the girl. Her relationship with children seemed to never end well, but Lydia’s relationships with mothers, or parental units at all, was tense in the beginning. 

Lydia acted as all children did; even in the midst of an apocalypse. She screamed and cried and talked back. In return, Daryl and Carol fell into their role of becoming parents. 

It was a first for him — having never acted as anything more than an uncle. Carol had been so proud to see him learning the ways of being a parent. She tried to comfort him whenever Lydia tested the boundaries of staying out late, reminded him she was just a teenager whenever she got caught in trouble, assured him that she didn’t actually hate him whenever she stormed off from an argument. 

Her heart warmed to see the bond between them. Often times, she’d find Lydia’s head resting on his shoulder, and his arm around her thin frame. Daryl’s go-to whenever he was upset was silence and overthinking; and sometimes, Lydia’s feelings could leave her in silence too. 

In some ways, it was a first for Carol, too. She’d never raised a child with someone she loved, but wasn’t in a romantic relationship with. 

Sophia was her daughter, but neither of them loved Ed. He didn’t support her the way Daryl did, didn’t care for her the way Daryl did. 

Lizzie and Mika had been complete miracles and accidents that had fallen into Carol’s life. She was sure they’d been brought to her to teach her something, but she tries to push the thoughts away most of the time. Still, back then, she’d been sure that she and Tyreeese would be left to protect them and Judith for the long haul. 

Henry had been her son. Ezekiel had been her husband. She loved them both — except Daryl wasn’t her husband. They were best friends, and co-parents of sorts. 

Sometimes, Lydia would slip up and call him _Dad_. Sometimes, she’d call Carol _Mama_. It was mostly when she was half-asleep and they were trying to move her to a more comfortable sleeping position, and none of them ever brought it up again in the morning. 

Unlike the children Carol had connected with before, Lydia had a tendency to fly off the handle at times. It wasn’t as extreme as Lizzie’s, but she wasn’t as calm as Sophia or as patient as Mika. That was okay — because Carol loved her anyway — but she had to tread carefully at times. 

Through it all, though, she and Daryl made a good team. 

She cooked most of the meals. He hunted and went on runs — which she sometimes joined, or helped out in other areas. She was sweet and kind most of the time, but her dark side only came out when they were alone. He was seen as protective, but stubborn and standoffish to outsiders; but could be the sweetest man she knew when alone. 

He was _her_ Daryl. _Her_ partner. 

Having him by her side made the days more bearable. 

She’d been lost before their family finally started to settle down. 

No matter how many times she convinced herself that things were fine and everything was secure in the past, she’d always been a little lost.

She’d been lost too many times before.

Lost when she was married to Ed. He broke her in the worst way possible — in a way she used to be ashamed of until she realized that she was still living, a survivor, and he was the one who’d lost in the end. He’d beaten her, stolen her light, nearly put her in the ground beside him. But she’d come out stronger. She’d won the war. 

Lost when Sophia went missing. Her heart stopped beating without her baby, and it never beat the same again. Sometimes, she still dreamed of her green-eyed, blonde-haired baby girl running into her open arms. 

Lost when Rick banished her from the group. She was trying to save other children. Ones like Sophia, and Lizzie and Mika, and even Carl and Judith. He’d forgiven her, but she hadn’t forgiven him. She’d protect him and his children at all costs — because lies and betrayals had rested among them all — but she would never forget that. 

Lost when she disconnected from Lizzie and Mika. Losing Mika had been a shot to the heart. She was good, sweet, and everything innocence. She probably wouldn’t have made it as far as Alexandria, but her life had been ended in such a tragic way; killed by her own sister in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. Murdering Lizzie had been one of the hardest things Carol had ever had to do. But if she hadn’t done it, Lizzie would have murdered _her_ , _then Tyreese_ , and then _Judith_. 

Lost when she lost Henry. That had been the biggest change after six years of relative peace. She still choked up whenever she tried to talk about him. 

She’d been lost a thousand other times, both in the old world and this new one. 

With Daryl, though, she wasn’t lost anymore. With him, she found a home and a family. 

Even with all the chaos surrounding them, she had always felt steady and grounded whenever she was with him. 

She used to worry — _a lot._ She hadn’t been able to control it back then. When Sophia had ran, Carol had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It was only Daryl who had gotten through to her. He calmed her down, whether it be with reassuring words or warm hands rubbing over her shoulders or even going out to look for her daughter in the dead of night. 

Daryl offered her forgiveness. Forgiveness for the things she could not control, including Ed’s abuse and Lizzie’s spiraling and Sophia’s death. Acceptance for the things she had done with guilt tearing her to pieces; Lizzie’s death. 

He was her steady hand, even when she was shaking. 

* * *

She sits for too long on the porch, sipping at a cup of cold tea. All she wanted was some peace and quiet, hoping it would calm the insomnia. 

But it seemed Daryl had a radar just for her. He’d abandoned his warm blankets on the couch in favor of joining her outside. His hands had surprised her at first, but she relaxed almost a second later. 

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” His voice was gravelly, and he didn’t bother clearing his throat. He sat down next to her, one hand moving to hold hers while the other rested on his own knee. 

She avoided looking at him. It wouldn’t be something she could get away with for long. She couldn’t even see the grass too well in the dark, but she wanted something else to focus on for a little while. She had found that Daryl had become her safe place to land, and that meant she felt safe enough to let her guard down. But she didn’t _want_ to cry tonight. 

She wanted to gather her thoughts, verbalize the feeling of content and peace she felt before the demons began fighting a war within her again. “Just thinking.” 

Her voice was soft, quiet. He had always said she had the gentlest, kindest of souls. 

“‘Bout what?” Daryl never missed a beat. He was always so in-tune with her, and that’s one of the reasons why she loved him so much. 

_Loved_. As in, her heart would probably fall from her chest if anything happened to him. 

She shrugged. “You, me, Lydia. Our life.” 

She was being vague and she knew it; but she couldn’t stop the troubling feeling that worried her into thinking he wouldn’t like what she had to say. She knew that he loved her, but she didn’t think this world could be made for them. She didn’t know if he loved her to that point, no matter how much it was _right now_. 

“What about it?” He asked again. This time, his thumb began moving in slow motions over her skin. “We got a good thing goin’ here. I ain’t thinkin’ we should give it up anytime soon.” 

She swallowed, taking in another deep breath. “Me either.” 

The air smelled fresh. It felt cool against their faces, as they both simply sat together. Neither of them needed to say any more than what they already had. They could just sit there, hand in hand, feeling the relative peace wash over them. 

They sit in silence until the front door creaks open again, and Lydia walks out — wrapped head to toe in a blanket. She looks like a marshmallow all wrapped up, as she makes herself comfortable in front of Carol. 

She abandons her tea in favor of putting her arms around Lydia. Her hand disconnects from Daryl’s, but he scoots closer and watches as she runs that same hand through their daughter’s hair. 

“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” Carol’s lips press against her forehead, before brunette hair falls against her shoulder. 

Lydia readjusts the blanket around them both, blinking tiredly. “Woke up and couldn’t find you. . .” She mumbles, snuggling into Carol’s form. “Got scared.” 

Carol’s heart nearly breaks at that. It’s such a simple phrase, one Lydia probably barely realized she said in her half-asleep state. Still, Carol hears it and curses Alpha once again for harming her baby. “We’re right here. Don’t be scared.” 

She’s come a long way from warning Sam to always be afraid. Lydia is on her highest alarm at all moments, and the slightest movement could set her off. It’s come naturally to Carol and Daryl to learn how to take care of her and her _episodes,_ and it’s been happening less and less with all of the love she receives. 

In response, Lydia sighs quietly, closes her eyes, and allows Carol to lull her back to sleep. 

* * *

They sit in silence for a little while longer; Carol holding Lydia in her arms, listening to her breathing patterns to make sure she’s still asleep, and Daryl eventually wrapping his full arm around her waist. 

It’s good and quiet, and Carol feels content. She feels, in this exact moment, as if she wouldn’t change a thing. 

But Daryl has to ask anyway. “Still feel like running?” 

Carol looks over at him, finally. She can just barely make out his concerned eyes. She nods, a light smile playing on her lips. “I’m exactly where I want to be.” 

She’s with her family and she doesn’t feel lost anymore. 


End file.
